


without a nest

by Blueberries (Blueberries_Pen)



Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [8]
Category: DCU
Genre: Bukkake, Gang Rape, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Noncontober 2020, Slade Wilson is an Asshole, Whumptober 2020, abandoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberries_Pen/pseuds/Blueberries
Summary: They’re still going at it, when Slade comes back.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson/others
Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947430
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	without a nest

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8:  
> Kinktober: bukkake   
> Noncontober: Gang rape   
> Whumptober: Don’t say goodbye/abandoned/isolation
> 
> sequel of sorts to day 6. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852290

They’re still going at it, when Slade comes back. 

He leans against the entryway, quiet and silent, and simply watches and observes. Men surrounding his boy, fucking him and ruining him.

Robin is utterly limp in their hold, no longer even resisting. Comatose, almost. Slade has been watching him, listening to him for hours. Listened to cry and beg and struggle, calling for his master. Slade never showed of course, had abandoned him to his fate. Had let his pet be fucked and ruined, over and over again, by people that couldn’t even appreciate his worth.

There’s two in his ass now, slipping easily in and out, the boy loosened after so many hours of repeated fucking. There’s one his mouth too, slipping easily in and out of his slack mouth. They don’t even need the gag now. Robin's body may be present, but his mind is lost. It's evident in the way the boy doesn't rip their cocks off when they use his hands to jerk themselves off.

Come stains his body in copious amounts, so much the air is saturated with the smell of sex and sweat, and even as he watches, the man in his mouth pulls out only to paint the boy's face anew. It clings to his lashes in thick globs, dripping down like tears, filling his mouth like he's a starving baby bird.

Spade searches but he cannot find a single strip of skin that isn't covered in either blood or come. Robin had been here a long, long time. Waiting for him, desperately, until his mind could take it no longer and shut itself away.

What a broken little thing.

They notice him, eventually, though the boy still doesn't, and he merely quirks an eyebrow towards the clock.

_ Finish up,  _ he doesn't say. It's understandable, Robin makes for such a delightful fuck that it's impossible not to get caught up in it. Not like Slade hadn't been caught up in it either.

They shuffle forward, voices becoming louder as they spew filthy insults and curses at the boy, roughly jerking off or rutting against whatever part of the boy they can get their hands on.

Slade only watches leisurely.

"Fucking whore," someone says, voice rough and breathing hard, come splattering down the side of the boy's cheek and down his, and it's a sensiment Slade agrees with. Robin truly is nothing but a whore like this. A mindless, stupid little whore.

One by one, they paint him in white, staining his hair so deeply one might even mistake his hair color for white, dripping like rain down his face. And then, after rebinding the boy, they leave, some congratulating him on having such a delightful hole to fuck, some shuffling out with uneasily murmured words of thanks.

Slade doesn't care, his eyes only for Robin.

He doesn't touch the boy with his hands, not when he's so dirty, cutting off the blindfold with his sword instead. Still Robin lies limp on the ground, unresponsive with blank, glazed over eyes.

"Get up, boy," Slade orders, loud and commanding.

"...master?" comes the quiet, hoarse voice.

It's amazing how just a few words gets the boy to respond so  _ easily. _

Slade kicks him in the abdomen, eliciting a wounded cry. "Don't take so long, next time," he says flippantly.

The boy sobs, eyes welling with tears as he lurches forward, and starts babbling hysterically. "I'm sorry - I'm sorry - master don't leave me  _ please _ -" 

Slade watches dispassionately, then picks up the discarded collar.

Robin falls silent, shivering, looking up to him with wide, imploring eyes. He whines, low and quiet but no less desperate. It's beautiful.

"You won't be needing this," Slade says idly, a flicker of pleasure going through him at Robin's fear. "They'll come again, tomorrow. Do try to make it come enjoyable for them, hm?" And then he turns his back on Robin, collar still in hand.

"M-master?" The boy calls out shakily, terrified. "Master, no, please, i?'m sorry,  _ I'll be good please-" _

Slade chuckles, and deigns to turn back, just this once. "This isn't a punishment boy - you're just so utterly  _ useless  _ at everything else. Guess you really are nothing but a  _ filthy  _ whore, hm? And if you can't serve me in any other way, then you might as well make yourself useless like  _ this."  _ He looks down cruelly, sneering. "This is all you deserve, you pathetic creature." 

And then Slade leaves.

"I'll be better - I'll  _ do _ better - just don't  _ leave please-"  _

Slade doesn't look back, and the door shuts with a click, damning Robin to the darkness and cold. 

The next day, when the men come, Slade doesn't go to set Robin up.

He doesn't go when they leave either.

He doesn’t go back for a long, long, time.

**Author's Note:**

> not edited, feel free to call out mistakes


End file.
